Open Backwritten WindClan Angels are Laughing Down ✪ 6/25 meeting

[Dustystar Dustystar]

{$title} rahhhhh backritten meeting

✪ Align my Heart, my Body, my Mind​

indentWith a heavy heart and unsteady paws, Dustystar pads her way back into camp. The air around her is suffocating, casting a depressive miasma upon the gathered cats. Avoiding eye contact with her clanmates, Dustystar wordlessly makes her way atop the Tallrock.

indent"Windclan." She calls. "I've got some startling news." From her position above her clanmates, the nasty wound on her neck is clearly visible to them. A deep, clean line runs from her throat, just below her chin, to where her right ear meets her head. The mark is crusted over with scabbing and dried blood that must be several hours old - though, her neck was clean when she left camp just a while ago, for patrol. "While patrolling, today, I was targeted by a strange cat - whether it was a warrior or not, I don't know. I couldn't get a good look at their face..." Her stoic face screws up in thought. The identity of the attacker still evaded her, despite circling it in her mind the entire walk back to camp. "Whoever they were, they struck quickly and efficiently. Within moments of being attacked, I was dead." A deep, shaky breath leaves her chest. "It's only by... the power of Starclan, that I'm still here."

indentGrey fur bristles, swaying in the warm breeze. "We don't know who this cat is, where they are now, or what their plans are. We need to be on high alert, or we'll be caught off guard again." An intense gaze turns upon her clanmates. "Until we figure this out, apprentices aren't leaving the camp. Not without their mentor. Granted, I know you don't all have mentors-" her gaze shifts to Gorsepaw and Scorchpaw, "So you'll have to ask another warrior to accompany you. I trust the clan as a whole will continue seeing to your education."

indent"On that topic. Peonypaw." She calls forth the little tomcat. "Due to... certain circumstances, I understand you've been falling behind with your training." After his part in causing the fire was revealed, many cats had begun to ostracize Peonypaw. Warriors were unwilling to lend him a paw in learning how to hunt and fight. Those who were willing were busy with their own apprentices, more often than not. "With that in mind, and with the danger we may find ourself in, I've decided to mentor you myself, Peonypaw. I hope it makes up for what you've lacked until then." Guiltily, Dustystar admits that she, too, was apprehensive of him after the truth came out. But leaving Peonypaw cold and alone wasn't likely to help him learn. No, he needed a stern paw to bring him to par. Dustystar vows to become that cat herself.

- @PEONYPAW -​

Dustystar - 27 moons - Windclan Leader

 

[Cricketkit Cricketkit]

'Cause I'd get a thousand hugs from ten thousand lightning bugs
As they tried to teach me how to dance
A foxtrot above my head, a sock hop beneath my bed
A disco ball is just hanging by a thread

.

Cricketkit had been sitting near the edge of the gathered crowd, curled up tight with her tail tucked close to her chest, her eye wide and full of quiet worry as Dustystar climbed the Tallrock. She always thought Dustystar was strong, strong like windstorms and brambles and tall grass that never bent... But now there was a wound on her throat. A real one. It looked like a fox had tried to carve her away from StarClan. And… she died. Cricketkit's heart thudded in her tiny chest. Died. That word echoed in her head like thunder in the gorge.

The moment she heard it, she couldn't help it, she shuffled closer to Meadowpaw, pressing herself tightly against her sister's side. She didn't say anything at first. She just sat there, staring up at Dustystar with trembling whiskers and a nervous twitch in her ears. Then she whispered, so only Meadowpaw could hear. " D'you think my shinies will help now? Like… more than before? " Her voice wavered, hopeful but unsure. " Maybe if I put them around the dens again… StarClan will see them better. Like stars on the ground. Maybe they'll keep everyone extra safe if I ask. "

She swallowed hard and looked around, eye flitting from one warrior to another, from Peonypaw, who she offered a soft look of sympathy, to the camp walls beyond. Somewhere out there, someone hurt their leader. Hurt Dustystar. Her ears lowered. " I'll put more shinies out. Even the very sparkly ones I was saving. " She blinked up at Meadowpaw, trying hard to be brave. " I'll ask the shinies to watch over you. And Cloverpaw. And mama. And... and even Dustystar. "

Then, softer, she added to this. " I don't want anyone else to go where mama and papa went. " She tucked her head against Meadowpaw's shoulder after that, quiet and thoughtful, one tiny paw brushing the ground as if already imagining where to place the next protective shiny.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

5 MOONS

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WINDCLANNER

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SONG

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bio

 

[MAREMANE]

fart

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Maremane, usually one to avoid meetings, had reserved a front-row seat to this one. After all, it was an unusual time, and as her eyes widened against the sight of Dustystar's nasty wound, she felt less inclined to dart as she would any other time. Something told her she wouldn't be assigned another apprentice, or given duties she didn't want this meeting.

Murder was announced, a breath of rolling, shuddering wind... Dustystar then proceeded to assign herself to Peonypaw. Maremane's pelt prickled, barely able to register the assignment as her claws dug into the ground. So grave, and so fast had the news came to them. Her upper lip twitched, shoulders heavy. A paw fidgeted the grass beneath it -- she wanted to lift it and scrub it against the gash that split Dustystar, as if she could wipe it off with enough force. Resurrection was still unbelievable. She couldn't deny it fully, though... The cut was a surefire deadly one.

The idea that it was a warrior of another Clan haunted her. Naturally, Maremane's mind wandered to the oaks, where light was only dappled. So quick to unsheathe claws and draw blood. An older Clan who surely knew Dustystar would revive if slaughtered.

It had to be a display meant to terrify them. Maremane relaxed her tensed form, slacking her scowl into neutrality.

She knew enough to realize accusations in a crowd led to frenzy. Her eyes grew dark as her tail lashed, waiting for the meeting to adjourn, her paws already leading a phantom path to the leader's den.

 

[Meadowpaw]

Meadowpaw hummed quietly to herself as she tended the garden, paws gently patting the soil of a new addition. Dustystar's voice caught her attention and her head snapped up—just in time to see the WindClan leader mount the tallrock.

A sharp gasp escaped her as her eyes locked onto the deep, scabbed wound carved across Dustystar's throat. She didn't realize how tightly she was gripping the flower stems until one bent, crushed between trembling claws.

Dustystar was alive. Alive—somehow—by the power of StarClan?

Her heart pounded against her ribs, mouth slightly agape in quiet horror. She believed in the starry cats—especially after meeting Ragwort in a place that was clearly not of the living world. She'd always hoped the ones they lost were still watching from above… but now, there was proof. Horrifying, miraculous proof. She had no reason to question the leader. Dustystar had died. Even if only for a moment—she'd died.

Meadowpaw swallowed thickly, green eyes shimmering, fresh tears caught in her lashes—relief and fear braided tight. What kind of cat could do that? Strike with such clean, deliberate cruelty? That wasn't an accident or passion. That was someone who knew what they were doing and did it without hesitation.

Her gaze shifted to Cricketkit beside her, and she forced a watery smile. "I think they could, Cricky… but like Dustystar said don't go anywhere by yourself to get them, okay? We'll go together. We can ask someone... t-to take us." Her words came gently, though half-distracted.

"I'll put one out for you too." She added quietly to Cricketkit, leaning to press her nose to the kit's temple. "Let's both work hard to keep everyone safe."

With a soft sniffle, Meadowpaw hobbled the edges of the growing crowd, eyes fixed on Dustystar. Her gaze flicked to the leader's wound again—an ugly reminder of how close they'd come to losing her. Even if StarClan had returned her… wounds like that didn't just vanish without consequence. Just to be safe, maybe she and Gladebloom should look it over and Dustystar should rest after. The exhaustion practically oozed from her.

Meadowpaw waited anxiously for the molly to finish before catching her attention. All the while, doing her best to steady the unease that curled in her belly like a gathering storm.

______________I believe that there is a courage ✿ but its burnin' like ash in the wind_____________

• "speech" - thoughts
  
• ​
• Meadow she/her & windclan
  ✿ Three-legged black and red tortoiseshell with green eyes.
  ✿ A light crisp-sounding voice
  ✿ Loves flowers and always has some woven into her fur
  ✿ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted. All others DM.
  ✿ Fur smells floral and mildly sweet.
  
  
  penned by Scarlet​

 

[Hollowmumble]

Hollowmumble, -- 36 Moons / 'Windclan' Cat -- Ages on the 14th
Black spotted ghost tabby with bright amber eyes.
She is friendly, yet quiet, and always willing to help.
Tagging N/A

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Hollow didn't quite know what to believe, anymore.

Different 'clans', group of cats, strangers, just kept seeming to show up, proving that Dustystar couldn't just be making up the whole thing, unless somehow she was in cahoots with the other clans. The way Hollow was leaping clean logic in her mind to find ways to not believe all of this clan nonesense left her a bit dizzy, sometimes. The clans were real, that was very obvious, and with Dustystar hobbling into camp and climbing atop the looming rock of leadership, horrid wound on display for everyone to see, Hollow was finding it hard to deny the existance of Starclan, too.

There was just... no way she had been brought back to life. It was preposterous. It went against every single lick of logic Hollow knew. Cats didn't just come back to life. Once they were dead, they stayed dead. It was impossible. But Dustystar's wound... red and crusted in dried blood, begged to differ. She could have faked it, gotten a wound that looked bad but that wouldn't kill her, but even then what sane cat would ever do that. Hollow didn't know what to beleive. She just didn't. This was all insane. If someone had told her a couple of years ago that she would be living in a prairie with a bunch of other cats with their dead ancestors [not her's.] reviving cats at their leasure... well, she would have thought them insane.

This is all insane.

Her curiosity gets the best of her. When she notices a small calico make her way over to the edge of the crowd, Hollow got up from her spot and quietly padded over too, settling next to Meadowpaw to watch Dustystar and wait for what was clearly going to be a long worrying session and check up. She had to see it up close.